The Shadow of the Storm
by Greyrosereddragon
Summary: The DWMA has operated in the shadows for as long as anyone can remember, hunting Kishin and others who step out of line. But after the countless years of peace, a vast organization threatens to expose them for the 'demons' they are. However, the greatest threat lies in the form of a pitch-black knight that walks among them…
1. Prolouge: The Heir

**A NEW STORY? AGAIN! You haven't updated your other two!**

**Yes. I know, I know. The problem with me is that I get A LOT of plot bunnies, then my mind automatically works with them and creates quite a bit of good story material. It sucks to be me. **

**But this time it's a crossover! In my opinion, there aren't many good Soul Eater and Pokemon crossovers (not trying to insult my fellow fanfiction authors). It's always about the soul eater characters getting sucked into the Pokemon universe and/or get turned into Pokemon. Gets a little boring after a while. **

**In this story, meisters and weapons retain their importance and then some. I also made the DWMA a underground organization because, in my mind, people would be freaked out if they knew that kishins and shinigamis existed. **

**On the note of my other stories, Breaking Diamonds and Pearls with probably be put on Hiatus. I'll try to update The Awakening once in a while. The Sky Thief (not out yet) may be transformed into a manga project. **

**Now read and enjoy!**

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Prologue

The Heir

(Omniscient)

A lone figure raced across the rooftops. Powerful bounds launching it over the gaps between the buildings, leaving a blur silhouetted by the laughing moon.

The shadow didn't stop until it heard a quiet, yet haunting tune. Gazing down at the young woman playing the eerie melody on a small ax-blade shaped harp, the werewolf grunted and tightened her hold on the package.

"Are you going come down here or do I have to knock you off?" The woman's fingers halted the vibrating strings as she glared at werewolf, ready to chop the immortal's hands and present the package to her meister.

"Cool your ax-blades. I don't back out on my deals without a good reason." The werewolf jumped down and reverted back into her human form. "Here's the book you ordered. Is there anything else you need me to do before I go underground?"

"Actually, there is one more thing…"

...

Even after all these years, those visions still haunt her. The visions that showed the end and its cause. She tried to remind herself that not all her visions were true, but her mind refused to listen.

She drew her attention to the children playing without a care in the world. So easily one could break their neck and feed the growing fire. She remembered when she was young and reckless, before she was tied down by distorted glimpses of the future she was plagued with now.

One of the kids missed ball they were playing with, and it rolled and stopped by a large oak a couple meters away.

"I'll get it!" A young girl broke away from the group to run after it.

The werewolf wanted to yell for her to get away from the tree, but it was too late. Just as the child was about to claim victory over the ball, a bullet tore through her skull.

The park fell silent as they watched the girl waver and, eventually, fall into a heap. Sadly, for the gunman, it wasn't a gaping wound on the side of her head that made her fall over.

When her limp body hit the ground, the park went into panicked run desperate to avoid whoever pulled the trigger. All but the werewolf, who slinked into the shadows. She wanted to see what happened next, no matter if she was discovered.

The crazed gunman waltzed out of his hiding place, watching the last fleeing pedestrians scramble away. He would deal with the stragglers later. Right now, he had a tasty human soul to devour. Laughing to himself, he turned around to be met with the breaking of his right rib.

He managed to fight the pain and open his eyes, but he should have kept them closed.

A demon loomed over him, licking its fingers gingerly, as if the blood on them was delicious melted ice-cream. The man prayed on his dying breathe that it won't notice him. His prayer was not answered.

The demon's glowing eyes flashed open and a wicked grin played across its lips.

Mangled pieces of the gunslinger's body was found that night. The police tried to find the culprit, but to no avail.

The same night, the child was returned to her home, her eyes glazed over and the bullet wound gone. Her parents tried to calm the crying girl and get her to tell what happened, but nothing but sobs escaped.

Sighing, the girl's mother whisper something to her husband and stalked into the kitchen. She grabbed the edge of the counter and glared at the stranger. "What did you do to my daughter?" Her voice saturated with venom. "What did you do to her?" She yelled again when the stranger didn't answer. Cracks began to appear on the granite counter.

"I didn't do anything, I simply brought her back to you. You were worried to the point that you would tear apart the city looking for her." The other woman said smoothly. "But that's not the main reason I'm here."

Wondering what the stranger's agenda was, the mother relaxed a tiny bit. "And that is?"

"I was hoping you can send a message to Lord Death. It's rather important."

"Lord Death? Who's that? A gang leader or something?" The mother scoffed. "What does this guy have to do with my daughter?"

"The heir is here." That simple statement made air as stiff and as silent as a mountain.

"The heir..?" _It can't be…_

The stranger nodded silently and left the petrified mother to her thoughts.

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**By far, this is the longest prologue I have ever written. I could have taken out the first part, but I felt it was important to the plot line. ****Anyways...**

**Who is this mysterious Heir and who is she/he? Who is this future-seeing werewolf? And who was stupid enough to shot a little girl in the head? Seriously, when is it a good idea to shot a (fairly) innocent girl in the first place? Wasn't obvious that a melted red-velvet ice cream loving demon would come along and tear you to shreds? Seriously. **

**I should have called this chapter "Red-Velvet Ice cream" **

**Please Favorite, Follow, and Review!**

**(the line that says "****delicious melted ice-cream" use to be "melted red-velvet ice cream". That's where all this bloody ice cream came from) **


	2. Chapter 1: Demons

**Wow, this chapter took awhile to write... well it is a whooping 1523 words. Thankfully, school was out Friday due to frozen roads so I got some extra time.**

**One thing I have to clarify is that the world this fanfiction takes place in is VERY different from the traditional Soul Eater world. For one, there's Pokemon! And because their in a world were foxes breathe fire (and because I felt like it), Meisters and Weapons are amped up a bit. **

**And a small warning, the last part gets a tiny bit _vivid. _Anyways, enjoy the chapter!  
**

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Chapter 1

Demons

(? POV)

"…It has been confirmed that there were in fact two felons present at the orphanage 'raid' last night. The first was the infamous serial killer who calls himself Baron and an unnamed second one who brutally killed Baron. Authorities are calling the anonymous killer 'The Black Shadow'. Oddly enough, evidence in the footage that survived and witness accounts, he is shown to be wielding a scythe that seems to move and talk on its own. Legend experts Kai and Lin speculate." The camera switched to a young man and woman.

"Thank you, Jane." The man said. "It intrigues me how much this person resembles the Death Hunters told in many ancient stories shared today. In each story they are personified as people that had surpassed the realms of humanity and feed souls of humans and Pokémon to their demon weapons…"

"The Spartoi Shadow Unit's Black Shadow. It has a nice ring to it, aye?" Tearing my attention off the TV, I turned to look at my partner.

"Honestly, it's a little repetitive," I took another sip of hot chocolate. "And I think it fits Black*Star and Tsubaki better."

"Black*Star?" Soul laughed. "He couldn't be a shadow if he wanted to."

I felt a gentle tug on my pant leg. My emerald eyes flickered to meet a pair of curious black ones. "What is it, Phantom?"

The golden-brown bipedal Pokémon pointed to the sling cradling my bandaged arm. "What happened to your arm?" The Cubone's childish voice echoed slightly within the skull that hid his face, but did not hide his gentle nature.

"Let's just say that there are some sick people out there who enjoy tearing off other people's limbs." The frayed nerves in my arm flared up painfully at the memory. When I saw the worry etched in his eyes, I added, "Don't worry. It with be good as new in a few hours."

Phantom nodded silently and continued his meal. Giving him a small smile, I turned back to the TV.

"Do you think that Death Hunters and shinigamis really exist?" The newscaster asked.

"No. For thousands of years, man has made up stories to explain the world around them. That is all these Death Hunters really are, stories told to scare little children." The female expert explained, "Besides, Dusknoirs have been proven to be the origin of reaper myths."

"I, for one, don't agree." Kai said. "After looking at the footage, I have concluded that the Black Shadow is not only a Demon, but a high ranking one as well. Jane, can you show the audience the video?"

Jane uncomfortably squirmed in her seat before saying, "Viewer discretion is advised."

After the news caster said those words, the camera-view shifted to reveal the orphanage's front room. The sound of splintering wood was heard as the Baron pried open the door, anonymous to Soul's and I's presence. Turning on his flashlight, he scanned the room for his first victim.

_How much are they going to show?_ My eyes narrowed in thought. _A better question is how much did the camera catch. I remember taking out all the security cameras beforehand, that means I must have missed one._ I mentally scolded myself. _Damn it Maka, you got yourself so used to wilderness missions that you take out one measly camera. Sigh… And I could have been going after a kishin pack in Orre… _

Just as he made his first sweep, a shrill din that screeched like nails on a chalkboard echoed throughout the room. The Baron spun around, nearly catching my fleeing figure. His flashlight's beam landed on a deep, claw-like scratch on the wall.

"What the hell?" He murmured.

The floor creaked underneath his heavy combat boots as he backpedaled a couple feet. He looked around wildly for the culprit, acting like a little kid lost in a haunted house. His eyes widened when he finally spotted me lounging at the front desk.

My image flickered continuously, the soul wavelengths surrounding me constantly changed to conceal my identity. One moment I would look like the silhouette of a man taking steroids, the next, a distorted skeleton. The only two things that stayed the same were my glowing green eyes and dark aura that made me have the appearance of a three dimensional shadow.

"I forget how scary you look when you use Shadow's Cloak," Soul whispered after moving his chair next to mine so no one could overhear us. "Funny how you can pull that stunt flawlessly yet you can't pull off any other Grigori tricks."

I shot him a glare. "Well, I'm sorry that I can't do that much. It's not like there are any other Grigori to teach me. Even if there was, I would probably mistake them for a regular human. You would know that if you stayed awake during Stein's lectures."

"Hey! I pay attention to that mad scientist's speeches!" He defended. "I can prove it! Let's see, a Grigori is defined as someone whose soul has wing-like extensions. Their most well-known ability is being able to forge wings from their wavelength, usually soaring faster than your average flying meister. Another ability they have is to distort their wavelength, and sometimes appearances, to match another's or make them completely unrecognizable. See? I can learn stuff when I want to!"

"You forgot to mention that no one knows if all Grigori have the same powers or if it varies because there has only been three recorded." I patted my weapon partner on the head. "But close enough."

Soul was about to say something when a troubling wavelength passed over me. Immediately, my head snapped the direction of the outburst of power and my soul perception honed in on the source. _Great. Just when I thought I could relax for a moment._

"Kishin?"

"Worse," I replied without taking my eyes off the bunch of souls. "Two meisters and one weapon with several humans around them. One meister has awakened, while the other two are teetering on the edge."

"All that after battling Baron?" Soul said exactly what I was thinking: "Yuck."

"Call in reinforcements. I can handle one newborn, but two might get a little hectic." Raw energy already rocketing through my veins, I shrugged off my hoodie and began to head for an abandoned alleyway. Taking a quick glance to see if anyone was going to follow me, I dove into the backstreet.

My arm gave one final throb as the muscle and bone finished its accelerated healing. I examined my forearm after tearing off the cast. No evidence that it had been snapped clean in half a mere 12 hours ago remained. I tested the joints in my hand. Curling my hand into a fist, I rammed it into the lid of a nearby dumpster. The thin metal caved in easily, leaving the dumpster looking like an anvil fell on it.

A small smirk grew on my face. "Perfect." I murmured before breaking into a mad sprint. A solid mile separated me from my destination. It would take me at least five minutes to get there. _Five minutes too late…_

Newborns are the slang term for newly awakened meisters. Before discovering their powers, or awakening, all meisters and demon-weapons were explicitly human. Weapons and Meisters _usually_ awaken at times of extreme stress or pressure between ages ten and fifteen. Sometimes the process is delayed a few days after someone's fifteenth, but that's fairly rare.

When a weapon awakens, it is pretty tame. There's a little bit of severe cramping as your body first morphs into your weapon form. But that it a spa treatment compared to what the meisters have to go through.

Your organs feel like their ripping themselves out as your DNA reworks itself. Everyone around you, even your friends, become your worst enemy. All control is lost when your new powers erupt like a volcano. The process only takes a half an hour, but that's more than enough time to level a few buildings.

_400 meters, 300… _I counted off silently, ignoring the bewildered stares of onlookers. _Come on, go faster!_

"What the hell you are you?" My ears picked up the panicked voice of one of the humans followed by the familiar click of a gun's safety being turned off. "That doesn't matter because you're going to die!"

"No, wait!" I yelled as I flung my body in middle of the skirmish, but I was too late. With a soft click, the gang pulled their triggers and the rest of the world faded.

The only thing I was aware of was the red-hot lead tearing its way through me. Shattered bone and blood chased the bullets out before spattering out uselessly onto the pavement.

The volley ended and my broken body fell to the ground. Murmurs of shock surrounded me as the black began to drag me under. Fighting to stay conscious, I shakily lifted my hand and draped it across the spot where seven shells severed my heart.

The last thing I heard was a cry of pure agony followed by the start of another shower of bullets.

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**There are so many alliterations and rhymes in this chapter, and I wasn't even trying. **

**Fun fact that most of you probably won't care about: the maximum human running speed is about 15 miles per hour, and that's a _really _fit person. Olympic sprinters usually run a mile in about 4 minuets. Maka said that is would take at least 5 minuets for her to cross that mile, not a direct mile, but a mile weaving your way through crowds and alleyways. Chew on that awhile. (yes, I did research for a fanfiction. That the kind of nerd I am.) **

**A quick question for my reviewers, what is your favorite line/sentence/phrase in this chapter. Please answer that is the review box below. **

**Fin. (I know latin! ...*sigh* Not really. I'm terrible at other languages...) **


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